The White Knight
by HoneyBee HoneySuckle
Summary: Blaine Anderson is just a normal high schooler. Well, except that his father's a senator. And Tony Stark is a close family friend. Oh, and the fact that he's a mutant superhero. Post-Avengers AU, will include references to X-Men and Spiderman.
1. Chivalry

**A/N: This is half 'Author is still on an Avengers high even though she saw it last Saturday', and half 'Author needs happy Glee after Graduation episode'. And also because the idea of Blaine being a mutant superhero of sorts entertains me to no end. Enjoy.**

**WARNING! May contain spoilers for 'The Avengers'.**

**Note: AU ages**

**Sophomores:**

**Blaine Anderson**

**Finn Hudson**

**Mike Chang**

**Noah "Puck" Puckerman**

**Quinn Fabray**

**Santana Lopez**

**Brittany S. Pierce**

**Freshmen:**

**Kurt Hummel**

**Mercedes Jones**

**Rachel Berry**

**Tina Cohen-Chang**

**Artie Abrams**

**Sam Evans**

"_I need a day where there aren't twenty crises to deal with, but I don't see that coming anytime soon." – Anthony "Tony" Stark, a.k.a Iron Man_

_**Lima, Ohio**_

Kurt really hated his life at the moment. Here he was, his first year of high school, the beginning of the best years of his life.

Said best years seemed to be destined to be spent in the dumpster near the back of the school, if the combined efforts of the football and the hockey team had anything to do with it.

Kurt winced as his bag was torn away from him and thrown carelessly into the ground. He hoped that his books weren't damaged by the impact, as Kurt's father was starting to get suspicious of why his books always seemed to be in declining condition every week.

The soprano was abruptly pulled from his musings when one meat-headed jock lifted him off his feet, he and his equally caveman-like cohorts all laughing like a pack of hyenas. Kurt closed his eyes tightly, simultaneously bracing himself for collision with the dumpster and praying to no one in particular that he wouldn't smell like Swiss cheese weeks past its expiration date.

Right before the athlete could fling him into the trash container, a shrill whistle pierced through the laughter. The crowd of dim-witted jocks turned, dragging Kurt's laced boots on the ground.

"Now, now, gentlemen, didn't mommy ever teach you to pick on people your own size?"

The ruffians (and Kurt) gasped at the newcomer. There, in all his shiny white glory, was the man who had become known as the protector of Allen County, Ohio.

Kurt felt his face heat up, much to his embarrassment. He didn't think spandex was appealing in most cases, but this man definitely was one of the exceptions. The ivory costume stretched taut over his muscular form was nothing to complain about. Add in those dark, curly locks and those hazel eyes filled with laughter behind a silver mask, and you've got a relatively tall glass of water, who just so happens to be a superhero.

There was no question as to why the vigilante had so many female fans. The White Knight was a very handsome man, and a kind one to boot.

Suddenly, the jock that had Kurt in his grip released the boy, which caused him to land on the unforgiving concrete of the WMHS sidewalk.

"L-Listen, man, we don't want any trouble, we're just… uh… fooling around! R-Right, guys?"

The other meat-heads quickly agreed with their burly leader. Knight, who didn't look like he was buying this obviously false drivel for a second, made eye contact with Kurt briefly, which caused the freshman to flush a bit darker than he already was.

"Suuure you were. Now then," In the blink of an eye, Knight went from leaning on the brick wall of the school to having a death-grip on the leader's shirt collar. "I expect that from now on, I won't be seeing any of you bothering this boy," here he pointed at Kurt, "or anyone else again, will I, boys?"

The pack hastily nodded, looking like they might wet themselves at any second. Smiling that charming smile of his, the hero released the jock. "Good. Now get to class."

Within a minute, the only people left near the dumpster were Kurt and his unexpected savior.

"U-Um… Thanks…" Kurt managed to say, still a bit in awe of the other man.

The hero smiled, picking up Kurt's forgotten messenger bag and walking over to the younger, holding out a hand to help the other to his feet.

"It's no trouble at all, kid." Knight stated, handing the bag back to its owner. "You stay safe, ya hear?" The vigilante called as he ascended into the air, as he always did upon completing his duties as a hero.

For a moment, Kurt stood in the alley, completely shocked at the sudden turn of events.

"… W-Wow…" Suddenly, Kurt checked his watch. "Shit! I'm gonna be late!"

Without further ado, the freshman dashed inside the school, not looking forward to the jocks' inevitable revenge later in the day.

-With Great Power-

Meanwhile, the hedges near the football field rustled with the movements of the young man changing inside of it, making a hasty transformation from hero to normal high school sophomore.

Well. Relatively normal.

Okay, as normal as a young mutant with superhuman capabilities could be, when said mutant's father owned half of the businesses in Allen County, Ohio, and also was a senator for that state, and said mutant also referred to genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Anthony "Tony" Stark, a.k.a Iron Man, as "Uncle Tony".

But other than that, yeah, he was a pretty normal kid. He went to high school, played on the football team, and played extremely violent video games with his circle of friends on the football team, which consisted of Finn Hudson, Sam Evans, Mike Chang and Noah "Puck" Puckerman. Well, Puck was kind of his friend; he often had to get on his case about why tossing 'nerds' in dumpsters was unethical.

With one final zip, the White Knight was gone, and in his place Blaine Anderson was crouched in the bushes, tugging on the WMHS red and yellow letterman jacket as he rushed to get to his first class. Truthfully, Blaine actually didn't have a lot of time after his early morning crime-stopping activities, which involved stopping a local jewelry store robbery, but…

Well, the poor boy was helpless. And he _was _the White Knight after all, if he didn't stick up for them, who would?

_That's not the only reason, _a very unhelpful part of his brain supplied (a part that sounded suspiciously like that nice red-headed secretary of Uncle Tony's, the one with the weird name). _You wanted to save him because he's so cute and swe-_

Blaine quickly shut that thought down. The last thing he needed was to be thinking about the people he met as his other persona. Blaine had his own problems to deal with without adding those of his super side.

Not to mention the fact that he was so deep in the closet that he was pretty much the high king of Narnia.

-Comes Great Responsibility-

"I'm telling you, Mercedes! It was definitely him!"

The black girl slowly edged Kurt's tray of suspicious looking globs of so-called 'food' away from him. "Uh-huh, 'course you did, baby. I think that maybe you should start bringing your own lunch."

The soprano glared at his fellow diva. "Dammit, 'cedes, it _had _to be him! How many guys in Ohio run around in a white spandex suit?"

Mercedes opened her mouth as if to answer, but found that she couldn't think of more than the White Knight who dared to do that.

"Well, still, even if for some reason it _was _him, you shouldn't go out of your way to see him again."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "And why, pray tell, shouldn't I?"

"He's obviously a mutant, Kurt. You know how people around here feel about those people." Rachel piped up, concern evident in her voice.

Both Kurt and Mercedes stared at the Jewish girl. "'Those people'? Rachel, do you have something against mutant-kind?"

Rachel looked indignant. "Of course I don't! I'm a Jewish girl who was raised by a mixed race gay couple! I have nothing but sympathy for the mutants, but honestly, it's not wise to get involved with them. Haven't you heard about the new Registration act?"

"Berry, I'd have to be living under a rock not to have heard about that. How does that have to do with Lima's views on mutants?"

"Well, you know who Senator Anderson is, right?"

"That businessman who owns pretty much everything in this county? I'm surprised they haven't renamed the school after him by now."

Rachel nodded in agreement. "I think that he's in negotiations with the School Board and Figgins about that. But anyway, a lot of his votes came from this county, and he supported the bill completely."

"So he's a bigot, big deal. Most of the people in his town are bigots, Rach."

Rachel pouted, looking even more indignant. "That just proves it more! Stay away from him, Kurt. You know all too well what blind hatred can do."

Kurt waved her off. "Whatever, Miss Mary-Janes. It's not like I'm ever gonna see him again."

Mercedes sighed. "We just want you to be safe, Kurt." Mercedes eyed her watch. "We'd better get to class."

-GLEE-

Blaine whistled quietly to himself, the halls empty after football practice ran late. Once again, Coach Beiste had seemed really torn up about something, and for a second he thought he had spotted purpling bruises on her arms.

_I think that history teacher is good friends with her; maybe I should ask him to talk to her about it… Wouldn't that be intrusive, though? I'm her student, so I don't think it's my place to-_

The sophomore was pulled abruptly from his train of thought as he passed by the choir room, a quiet, yet somehow haunting voice floating out the open door.

"_Take all my vicious words, and turn them into something good…_

_Take all my preconceptions, and let the truth be understood…"_

Entranced by the beautiful sound, Blaine ever-so-quietly moved towards the door, peeking into the room.

"… _and let me be what's underneath._

_Courage is when you're afraid, but you keep on moving, anyway._

_Courage is when you're in pain, but you keep on living, anyway._

_We all have excuses why,_

_Living in fear, something in us dies._

_But like a bird with broken wings, it's not how high he flies but the song he sings…"_

At the piano, a boy in a familiar navy coat and white pants sat alone, the room occupied by only him and two girls that Blaine didn't recognize. Blaine knew he had seen this guy before, and recently, but it wasn't until his eyes fell on the leather messenger bag that he realized who the mysterious singer was:

The boy he'd saved from the bullies that morning was playing the piano.

"… _Courage is when you've lost your way, but you find your strength, anyway._

_Courage is when you're afraid; courage is when it all seems gray,_

_Courage is when you make a change, and you keep on living, anyway._

_You keep on moving, anyway._

_You keep on giving, anyway._

_You keep on loving, anyway."_

As the melody ended, the two audience members rose from their seats, clapping and cheering wildly for their apparent friend.

"That was great, Kurt! I mean, it was a little pitchy in some places, and your enunciation needs work, but otherwise-"

"Oh, pipe down, Berry, not everyone is classically trained like you are."

With the three stuck in their own little world, Blaine saw the perfect opportunity to escape unnoticed and bolted down the tiled floor of the school hallway.

He had a name for his mystery victim now, at least the first name: Kurt.

It seemed that his normal life and his life as the White Knight couldn't be kept as separate as he had hoped, in the end.

**A/N: So, what do you think? Leave a review and let me know!**

**I own neither Glee nor Marvel comics.**

**(In this universe, anyway…)**


	2. Favors

**A/N: WARNING. The following contains a humorous and cracky depiction of the Avengers living in the same household. Parental supervision is necessary but not advised. **

_**Malibu, Florida**_

There were many things that Steve Rogers didn't understand about the 21st century. How people behaved nowadays, with such little respect for others and participating in such self-destructive activities were the things he understood the least. Both things were the exact reason he couldn't for the life of him figure out Tony Stark, who was a self-admitted jerk and a not-so-admitted drunkard. The billionaire was the sort of person that Steve would have found to be insufferable, and to an extent he did, but for some reason he found Tony to be tolerable whenever he wasn't making a lewd joke or generally being otherwise obnoxious.

Suffice to say, not very often.

Unfortunately, about a month after the Battle of New York, SHIELD had contacted all of the Avengers, save Thor who was on Asgard at the moment, and told them that in order for them to be prepared at any time for an attack on the Earth, they would all be taking residence at Stark Manor.

Tony, as one could expect, was not happy about this decision, which he stated in a very long monologue that included enough swearing to get him an R rating in a movie theater.

In the end, Ms. Potts ended up dragging the raging genius (who had begun foaming at the mouth) back home, and Stark Manor became the official temporary Avengers headquarters.

It had been three weeks since then, and the group had fallen into a sort of pattern, a relative peace if you will. As long as no one intentionally provoked Bruce into turning into the other guy (Tony), or tried to flirt with Natasha (Still Tony, though if she was in a bad mood Clint as well), or called Clint Legolas or Katniss (seriously, who else would it be?), the house would still be standing the next morning.

One morning, however, the owner of said house was nowhere to be found. Around eight o'clock, Bruce had come into the kitchen and asked if anyone had seen Tony, who was supposed to be working on a project with him down in the lab. The full-scale search of the mansion started then, and lasted for about three hours before everyone was about ready to give up on ever finding the missing billionaire.

"Where the HELL is that insufferable narcissist?" Natasha growled, eyes narrowed in frustration.

"You know, it's entirely possible that he isn't even here anymore," Clint suggested. Three pairs of eyes trained their irritated gaze on the archer at that comment. "What? I'm just saying!"

Bruce sighed. "No, he's still here. The suit and all twenty-seven of his cars are here, and somehow I doubt Tony Stark would ever walk anywhere that he could drive or fly to in a lesser amount of time."

Silence reigned for a moment as the group attempted to think up another plan. Then a thought came to Steve's mind.

"Wouldn't JARVIS know where Tony is?"

Silence again reigned. Then Natasha walked over and punched Steve in the arm.

"OW. WHY?"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU SUGGEST THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?"

-With Great Power-

As it turned out, JARVIS _did _know where Tony was hiding. The computer had briefly considered telling the group this at the beginning of the search, but had decided that watching them frantically look for the genius was much more entertaining than helping them out.

After Natasha and Clint both cursed the AI out, randomly switching from English to Russian to German to Chinese and so forth, the heroes went into what was possibly the most dangerous and vile room in all of Stark Manor: Tony's bedroom, where the occupant was currently buried under what Clint referred to as Mount Blanket.

"Tony? Are you still alive under there?"

For a moment, there was no response. Then groggy mumbling let the other Avengers know that Tony was indeed still alive in his blanket fortress.

"Steve, go get him out of there."

The super-soldier recoiled. "Wha- NO! The last time I did that, he turned out to be naked!"

"And?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Steve just glared at her.

"I'd think that would be pretty obvious."

Before the duo could get into an argument, however, there was a shriek from the bed, Tony having been revealed when Bruce and Clint pushed over the fluffy fort.

"THE SUN. IT BUUUUURNS!"

"Up and at 'em, Drunky McDrunkerson." Bruce deadpanned, not an ounce of sympathy for the genius on his face.

Tony glared at him through tired, squinted eyes. "All of my hatred, Banner. ALL OF IT. You too, Legolas."

Clint snorted while smacking the genius upside the head lightly, which caused Tony to wince in pain.

"OW! THAT HURTS, DAMMIT!"

"Oh, shut up, I barely touched you."

Just then, JARVIS interrupted what could have become the battle that would finally destroy Stark Manor. "Sir, you have a call coming in from Zachary Anderson."

Tony groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. "Tell him to fuck off, I'm tired."

"He has called thirty-seven times now, sir, and in his last message he threatened to, and I quote, 'Get on his jet, fly to the manor, and slap you silly if you don't answer the phone'. He sounded quite serious."

Once again the billionaire groaned. "Fiiiiine. Put him on."

"Yes, sir."

There was a brief click, and then a very cross-sounding man began screaming into the phone.

"_ANTHONY EDWARD STARK WHAT THE EVER-LOVING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!_"

Tony screeched in pain. "STOP YELLING I'M HUNGOVER YOU DOUCHEBAG!"

"_THEN SERVES YOU RIGHT FOR DRINKING IN THE FIRST PLACE ASSHOLE!_"

"WOULD BOTH OF YOU STOP YELLING ALREADY?" Clint bellowed into the phone and right next to Tony's ear.

"OW. WHY."

There was a pause on the other end. "_Tony,_" The other man began warily, "_Who the hell was that?_"

"That," stated Tony, rubbing his ear warily, "Is Clint Barton, one of the many people staying at my manor because frikkin' Fury said I have to put up with them. Do you know what it's like to have to be constantly fixing all the things? _All_ the things, Zach."

"_Whatever, Tony. You're gonna have to reschedule fixing things for a later date. I need you to come to Ohio and watch Blaine while I'm in Europe on business._"

"What! Why do _I _have to watch your kid? Don't you have an older son or an ex-wife who can do that?"

"_I trust Cooper about as far as I can throw him. And I don't talk to Emily, Tony; I have a lawyer for that. Think of it this way: You watch my son, I don't leak potentially career destroying college photos to the Internet. And by the way, when I called Pepper and asked if you were comatose she hung up on me, what the hell did you do?_"

Tony's expression turned to one of regret at the mention of her name. The events of last night floated through his mind like a cruel river.

_It's over, Tony. I'm done with you._

"I-It's… It's nothing. Look, I'll watch Blaine, okay?"

"_Great. Be here at noon, okay?_"

With that, the other man hung up, leaving Tony with the rest of the Avengers staring at him.

"So," Tony started, suddenly grinning maliciously, "Who's up for a stay in Ohio?"

-Comes Great Responsibility-

_**Lima, Ohio**_

"This is a _really _bad idea, Dad."

Zachary Anderson sighed for what felt like the fifth time that day. "Blaine, its fine. Tony is an adult, even if he doesn't act like it."

"Please! _Cooper _is more responsible than he is, and Cooper's an overgrown seven-year-old! I can tell you right now that the house will be at least half-demolished and will smell like sex and booze when you get home."

"Even if that's true, if it were Cooper there wouldn't even be a house to come home to. Just bear with it, Blaine, it's only for a couple of weeks."

Just then, there the sound of engines right outside the door.

"That's probably him now. Let's go, Blaine."

Blaine sighed, praying that if there really was a God up there, he'd have mercy on Blaine's soul and let the house be standing in two weeks. Hell, he'd settle for half of a standing mansion if that was what he could get!

Zachary opened the oak doors, expecting his college friend in his usual suit (or an AC/DC t-shirt and ratty jeans, just so long as he was clothed), only to be greeted by the one of the tallest men he'd ever seen.

"Er… hello. Can I help you?"

The tall, muscular looking blonde man looked extremely uncomfortable. "Um, hello. My name is Steve Rogers, and-"

_Steve Rogers? Why do I know that name?_

Zachary sighed. "Look, whatever you're selling, we're not inter-"

"ZACH!" Tony suddenly appeared out of seemingly nowhere and gave his friend a hug. "Hi!"

Once again, the senator sighed. "Hi, Tony. Do you know this guy?"

"Oh, him?" The billionaire released his old friend, clapping the tall man on the shoulder. "This fine gentleman is Captain Steven Rogers, better known as Captain America."

Both father and son stared at Tony in shocked silence. "_The _Captain America? As in, the one that your father-"

Suddenly, there was a loud crash, then a great rumble like an earthquake.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?"

"Oh good, the lab's here!"

"LAB? _Please _tell me you mean a dog…"

"Nope! Come on in, guys!" Tony yelled out behind the Captain.

"Who are you-?"

Suddenly, three more people filed in behind the super-soldier, a thin, busty redhead in tights and a red mini-dress, a strong-looking brunette wearing a rather odd suit of sorts, and a nervous, slightly disheveled man.

"Zach, Blaine, meet Natasha, Katniss and Bruce. Guys, meet Zach and Blaine."

The strong brunette crossed his arms and glared at Tony. "My name is Clint, assbutt. Stop introducing me to people as Katniss."

"Whatever you say, Legolas."

Zach stared at his old college buddy, completely shocked beyond belief. "You brought the Avengers to my house."

"Weeell, not _all _of the Avengers. Thor couldn't be here on account of he's on another planet right now."

For a moment, the house was silent. Then Zach straightened his tie and grabbed his suitcase. "Well. Try not to destroy my home or kill my son, if you can't help but kill someone."

"No promises."

"Didn't expect any. I'll be home in three weeks."

"WHAT! DAD WAIT A-!" Blaine began to try and reason with his father, but it was too late, he was already gone. Slowly, he turned to the team of superheroes in his entry hall.

_The freaking Avengers are in my house._

Blaine groaned, raising his hands to his face. "Sam's gonna have a coronary."

**A/N: For all you Thor fans out there, do not be alarmed! He shall appear soon, as I am also a fan of the god of Thunder and his antics, and Loki shall appear too as I love him as well!**


	3. I Can't take My Eyes off of You

**A/N: Hello, here, have an update, bye!**

**DemitriMP: 1. I actually couldn't remember Kurt's… whatever they're called, so I just picked the one I thought sounded right ^^'. 2. Can't tell you because SPOILERS~!**

_**WMHS, one week later…**_

Blaine sighed, once again wondering why he chose to hang out with these people. Currently, Puck was attempting to convince Sam to see if he could fit an entire football in that freakishly large mouth of his, and to Blaine's surprise he may have been wearing him down at that point, because Sam was becoming less and less clear in his negative stance towards the idea. Meanwhile, Mike was, as per usual, assisting Finn with his math homework troubles. Well, trying to assist Finn, anyway. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, Finn could never find the correct answer and Mike always ended up doing the problem for him.

_Its times like these I realize that I have some _awful _best friends. _

Feeling like an outsider in his own group was not an uncommon feeling for Blaine by any means, since half the time it felt like he only hung out with these people because they were all on the football team together, and thus it was only a friendship based on mutual desire to not be bitch-slapped by an iceberg.

While these thoughts ran through his head like wild horses on an open prairie, Blaine's eyes wandered over to a nearby table populated by the designated 'undesirables' of the school, aka the glee club. The close-knit band of misfits was an eclectic bunch, to say the least. He couldn't remember the punk Asian girl's name at all, and he knew the boy in the wheelchair's name started with 'A'. Aaron? Ambrose? Albus? Okay, the last one was just Blaine being a nerd, but still the name escaped him. The African-American girl's name was either Merle or Mercedes, one or the other. And the Jewish-looking girl was someone who if you didn't know the name of, then you didn't go to McKinley. Outside of the Football Team and the Cheerios, Rachel Berry was the most well-known person at the school, though not for good reasons like the first two. Her brown-nosing nature and know-it-all personality had made her a target for slushie facials the moment she opened her mouth at the start of the year, her preppy wardrobe not being a redeeming factor in the eyes of the more cruel members of the football team's wrath. Blaine did admire her resilience, though. He didn't think that he could endure all of the taunting and torture and shake it off like it was nothing. Maybe she read self-help books or something.

And then, there was him. The boy who Blaine had rescued from the less sensitive members of his sports team while in his heroic persona. The boy with the blue eyes, or perhaps green or even grey, he never could quite put a name to the color. The boy with the top dollar wardrobe that Blaine wondered how a normal high-school kid in Lima could afford, it was obvious that he didn't come from a higher class family, as Blaine would have met him by now if that were the case. The boy with the pale skin that if you looked closely at would have a pale dusting of freckles covering it.

There was no use in denying it: Blaine Anderson had it bad for this boy named Kurt. Which was not good, because one, Blaine was so deep in the closet that he was starting to name the mothballs, two, Kurt seemed pretty young, so there was a good chance that he wasn't out, assuming he was even gay, he could simply like fashionable clothing like that one guy Amanda dated on Ugly Betty, and three, even in the situation where the two of them were both gay, out and available, there was absolutely _no _guarantee that Blaine was even this guy's type.

Once again, the dark-haired boy sighed, wishing that things could be more like the movies where the good guy always gets the pretty girl (or in this case, extremely attractive boy) and they all live happily ever after.

He'd settle for not-so-happily ever after if he could just have someone like Kurt, or even better, the boy himself. Even an imperfect ending was fine by him if that gorgeous guy ended up with his hand in Blaine's.

_**Later, at the Anderson home…**_

Natasha Romanoff could think of no other situation where the phrase 'sausage fest' was better suited than the one she was in currently. Sure, the modern-with-hints-of-Victorian-influence was a very nice and extremely welcome change from SHIELD headquarters, but there was only so much time even a trained assassin could go without having a fellow female to complain about her sort-of-boyfriend or Tony. Because with the latter, there was _plenty_ to complain about, something that Natasha had learned quite well over the past month or so that she'd lived in the same place as the genius.

The assassin sighed wistfully, wishing (albeit reluctantly) that Pepper was here. Even if she wasn't all that fond of Tony's… whatever the hell she is to him, at least with Pepper she could express her reasonable irritation at people and events without automatically being asked if it was 'that time of the month'.

Natasha was actually getting quite tired of punching Tony in the mouth, which was surprising, because with how much he annoyed her one would assume that causing him physical and/or emotional distress wouldn't be something she'd ever find to be boring.

As the Russian walked along the lonely hallways of the Anderson home pondering this, the sound of a leather punching bag having the ever-loving crap being beat out of it from somewhere nearby, a sound not unfamiliar to her what with all the superheroes she lived with.

_Steve must be ticked about something, I guess, _Natasha thought as she keep on ambling through the corridors, stopping abruptly when she heard a slam and someone who didn't sound like the first superhero exclaim, "GAH! Son of a...!"

_Okay, so it _isn't _Steve doing his usual routine of completely obliterating helpless punching bags, _the assassin thought as she cautiously advanced towards the person who was using a variety of colorful language that would make even the most uncouth sailor redden like a ripe tomato.

She was extremely flabbergasted to find Tony's friend's son, what was his name, Blaine, knocked flat on his back with both of his glowed fists over his eyes.

"So, fighting with the punching bag not go well for ya?" Natasha asked, leaning against the doorway.

The boy tilted his head upward and removed his hands from in front of his eyes. "What's it to you?"

The Russian smirked, walking over to the still lying-down youth. "First of all," she stated, crouching down and flicking his sweat-drenched forehead, "There's no reason to be rude to someone who's simply asking a question, kid. Second, since we're stuck with ya, I may as well try to keep you from getting too badly injured. Third... well, I don't have anything better to do."

Rubbing his forehead gingerly, the teen sat up and sighed heavily. "I just... I'm just so tired of trying to live up to everyone else's expectations, okay? I'm supposed to be this upstanding young man who plays football and makes his family look good, but... I want my own life, my own dreams, not just this... this path that my dad and everyone else keeps pushing me onto!"

Natasha simply raised an eyebrow. "And why can't you have your own life?"

Blaine seemed a bit startled at the inquisition. "W-Well... my father-"

"Oh, right, because Daddy's the one who gets to make all of your decisions for you. Listen, kiddo, I get that your dad's not the most understanding man, I mean, come on, he fucking verbally assaulted Tony when he had a major hangover, even if Tony did deserve it that's pretty cold, but sometimes, it's better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission. It's your life, Blaine. Live it."

-With Great Power...-

Will Schuester sighed, feeling that defeat was imminent at this point. All he wanted was to get the glee club back to its former glory, the glory it held back when he was the one in the students' seat, but how was that ever going to happen if they couldn't even recruit enough members to qualify for Sectionals? The history teacher had tried just about every idea that he had been able to think up, from a live performance in the outdoor cafeteria to fliers, he'd even offered extra credit in his history class to everyone who auditioned, but nothing had made the sign-up sheet fill up with actual names and not derogatory jargon.

Even the seemingly-dauntless divas of the club had begun to seem depressed. Mercedes wasn't being as bold in her outfit choices, Rachel seemed to have lost some of her slightly-irritating peppiness, and he was fairly certain that Kurt had worn that exact same outfit that very Monday.

No, the future did not look at all promising for the New Directions. Perhaps it was time to just throw in the towel and call it a-

"Um... excuse me, is this the place where the glee club meets?"

The teacher and the students all looked towards the door and were all utterly shocked to see a young, curly-haired sophomore in a football jacket staring nervously back at them.

"Th-This is a s-slushie free z-zone!" Tina stammered, holding her hands in front of her face defensively.

The football player immediately shook his head and waved his arms. "N-No! That's not it all! My name is Blaine Anderson, and I'd um... I'd like to, er, audition? If that's alright with you guys?"

For a brief moment, the entire room was silent, the tension nearly visible.

"... Are you trying to be funny, white boy?" Mercedes accused, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"No! I'd really like to audition! Please?"

Yet another moment passed as the club conversed in hushed whispers among itself. Then the small band of outcasts turned back towards the newcomer.

"We as a club have decided that there is no harm in letting you at least try out. But we shall judge you harshly." Rachel stated, the others nodding in agreement.

Mr. Schue nodded tersely, and Blaine walked into the center of the room.

"_What day is it, and in what month? _

_This clock never seemed so alive._

_I can't keep up, and I can't back down_

_I've been losing so much time._

_Cause it's you and me, and all other people with nothing to do,_

_Nothing to lose._

_And it's you and me, and all other people and I don't know why,_

_I can't keep my eyes off of you."_

Kurt was mesmerized by the performance. He'd never truly cared for this song, though he thought it was rather sweet, but somehow, hearing Blaine sing it...

It was almost like he was falling for him...

Wait...

_Aw, crap, _Kurt thought unhappily, _I just fell for a straight guy, didn't I?_

"_... There's something about you now,_

_I can't quite figure out._

_Everything she does is beautiful,_

_Everything she does is right._

_Cause it's you and me, and all other people with nothing to do,_

_Nothing to lose,_

_And it's you and me and all other people_

_And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you_

_and me and all other people with nothing to do_

_Nothing to prove_

_And it's you and me and all other people_

_And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you._

_What day is it, and in what month?_

_This clock never seemed so alive."_

As the song finished, the entirety of the club stood up and cheered, thoroughly impressed with the performance.

"Well, I guess it's unanimous! Welcome to the New Directions, Blaine!"

**A/N: Aaaand done! Laterz!**


	4. Hel

**A/N: I'm baaaack! School started, and I've been debating whether or not to watch season four of Glee ('not watching' has a very strong lead with the rumor of Klaine's breakup circulating the interwebs, while 'watching' has the advantage of my insatiable curiosity on how this whole 'split between cities' is going to work, Marley's storyline, and Murphy's promise of a nerdy friendship between Blaine and Sam), but… well, I'm bored, I want to write, and this needs updating, especially now that I have a vague idea of how to write Thor. So, without further ado, enjoy!**

The weeks since the arrival of the Avengers in Lima had been rather uneventful, honestly, even though Lima was not exactly New York's equal when it came to weird stuff happening. The most interesting thing to happen to Blaine was within the Glee Club, which, after his joining, had gotten seven new members in the form of Quinn Fabray and her two companions, Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce, as well as all of Blaine's friends from football. In the case of the latter, each person that he had asked had immediately blamed another, so Blaine had really no clue whose idea it was to join. Quinn and her friends were more obvious: It was no secret that Coach Sylvester harbored a hatred for the club that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns, and the Unholy Trinity just happened to be her top underlings, besides Becky but Becky was more of a sidekick than a lackey. There was no doubt in Blaine's mind that they were spies, but he knew better than to mention it to the others, as they had no reason to believe him, he'd just joined, for Pete's sakes!

The superhero gig was going slow as well. Blaine wondered if living in a bigger city would have more opportunities for superhero-ing. Not New York, too much crazy crap seemed to happen in that city. Perhaps Boston, he'd heard it was nice there. Boston never seemed to be attacked by a Norse God of Mischief and his evil alien army, or have scientists turning into lizard things and nearly turn the whole world into similar lizard things, or any other various sorts of weird things happening there.

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by an abrupt flash of light and a deafening boom of thunder, which caused him to jerk on the wheel accidently, pulling off the road and into a field near his house, pounding the brake pedal to the bottom of the car. Once his car had come to a complete stop and his heart no longer threatened to burst out of his chest, Blaine got out of the car, slamming the door behind him as he sprinted over to the spot where the lightning had struck, the large patch of gravel still smoking from impact. As he got closer to the area, however, a figure lying on the ground motionless became more and more apparent.

"Oh my god!" Thankful that no one was around, Blaine allowed himself to fly over the rest of the distance, floating being a much faster method of travel than running. Upon arrival, Blaine took the unconscious person, now revealed to be a girl, in his arms, holding her head up. "Hey, are you okay? Oh, god, please don't be dead…"

A pained moan slipped out from between the girl's lips, signaling that she somehow survived being struck by lightning or… whatever the hell had just happened. Blaine released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding in a sigh of relief.

Of course, then he realized that he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing at this point. It wasn't like there was ever a time where he'd thought to look up what one did with someone who apparently had just been struck by lightning and knocked unconscious.

Unable to think of anything else, Blaine cautiously lifted the mystery victim and flew back over to his car, heading home.

-With Great Power-

The Avengers, of course, had no idea that any of this was going on. Currently, the group was scattered throughout the house; Bruce and Tony were working on some new thing in the lab; Steve was working out in the exercise room; and Clint and Natasha were watching the latest episode of their mutual favorite show, "Sing", a popular musical dramedy. When it was first discovered that the pair were fans, Tony had taken it upon himself to ridicule them for it at each and every opportunity he got; however, after getting shot in the back of the head with a Nerf gun and knocked unconscious for half an hour, the billionaire had decided that he'd be better off never mentioning the show again (and also have Hawkeye train his employees to shoot a toy gun with such accuracy). Thus, Tony got to remain in charge (for the most part) of when he was conscious and the pair of assassins got to watch their show in peace. This was something they were extremely grateful for, as it was the mid-season finale and the leads, whom had been together for the past season and a half out of four seasons total, were in the middle of a huge fight.

"_Why are you being so difficult?!"_

"_I'm not being difficult; you're being a neglectful jerkass!"_

Natasha gasped in disbelief. "He did _not _just say that! What the hell?!"

"_How… How dare you?! I've been nothing but attentive and understanding our entire relationship!"_

"_Oh, sure, because talking non-stop about Julliard and texting with other guys is _soooo _nice!"_

"_Again with that?! I told you, we're just friends!"_

"_Friends don't send each other suggestive pick-up lines, Kirk!"_

Clint snorted. "Yeah, unless that friend is Tony Stark."

"_So what are you saying, Blake? I can't have friends? I can't be excited about getting into Julliard? I can't have a life outside of you, is that it?!"_

"_Well you sure as hell don't seem to be planning to have a life that includes me in the picture!"_

For a moment, the two characters were silent, Kirk staring at Blake with eyes filled with pain and anger. "_You know what, Blake? I think you need to learn that not everything's about you. Call me when you get off the pacifier and put on your big-boy pants."_

With that, Kirk stormed off, leaving Blake alone in the middle of the park, a close up showing his face twisted into an expression of pure heartbreak being the last shot before the show cut to commercial.

A brief moment of shocked silence passed before Clint and Natasha scrambled for the remote, eager to fast forward through the recording and get back to the show.

Just as they found it, however, the doorbell rang, the tinny bell-like sound echoing around the house.

"STEVE! GET THE DOOR!" Natasha yelled as Clint pressed fast-forward. "Hey! Go back, go back, you missed it!"

"I'm trying, the remote's being slow!"

"WELL TRY HARDER!"

"DAMMIT WOMAN TECHNOLOGY IS TONY'S THING NOT MINE!"

Upon entering the living room and seeing the pair not three minutes from the door, Steve scowled. "You couldn't have paused the show for one second to answer the door?"

The assassins made a sound that reminded Steve of whenever Tony woke up hungover, never once tearing their eyes away from the screen.

"Kids today and their television shows," Steve muttered under his breath as he walked over and opened the front door. "Can I help y-? _Jesus Christ!"_

"Hi, Cap," Blaine replied nonchalantly, shifting the still-unconscious girl in his arms. "Can you move out of my way? She's kind of heavy."

Still shocked, the larger man moved to the side, allowing Blaine to walk inside and towards the living room, placing her on the couch adjacent to the television.

"… Blaine," Steve began carefully, "Who is that and why is she unconscious?"

"I dunno. Lightning stuck in front of my car and I drove off the road. When I walked over to inspect the damage, she was lying unconscious. She's alive, though."

"Lightning? I didn't hear any lightning." Clint commented, still staring at the TV.

"It was just one strike, and there she was!"

"You think she might have caused it?"

"There are a lot of mutants cropping up lately," Natasha added, never removing her eyes from the screen in front of her.

"Um, hello?! Isn't anyone else concerned about the fact that this girl, mutant or not, got hit by lightning?! Shouldn't we take her to a hospital?!" Steve cried out, flabbergasted at the general easygoing attitude this was being addressed with.

"I did all my freaking out on the way over here. Besides, if she was hit by lightning, she doesn't seem to have gotten hurt. Pretty sure she's a mutant." Blaine replied.

"So what?! She's still a person!"

"That's why we're not taking her to the hospital. In case you hadn't noticed, this town is pretty anti-mutant. We take her to the hospital and the MRD will be here in no time."

Steve was silent for a moment. "Well, _still! _How do we know that she's not been rendered comatose or som-?"

Just then, another groan escaped the girl, her eyes slowly flickering open. Blaine motioned towards her.

"See? She's fine." With that, the brunette walked back over to the couch, sitting down. "Hey, are you alright, miss? I think that you might've been-"

Suddenly, the girl sat up, green eyes wide and dark hair flying everywhere. "Where… Where am I?! Who are all of you?!"

"H-Hey, take it easy! You're in Westerville, Ohio. Do you know how you got here?"

The mysterious brunette blinked, turning her head slightly. "Ohio… is this land on Mid- erm, I mean, that's on Earth, right?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow, confused. "Um, yeah, last time I checked. Are… are you feeling okay?"

The girl didn't answer him; instead she rose from the couch, running up to a window, which at the right angle could show you your reflection. She stared for a moment, and then raised a hand to touch the left side of her face gingerly, as if she thought that she might be dreaming.

"I… I'm normal." She whispered. "The enchantress truly did fulfill her end of the bargain."

"Uh… Miss?" Steve asked, moving towards her cautiously. "Are you… feeling alrigh-?"

Without warning, the girl squealed happily, jumping up and down. "Oh, this is wonderful! I'm really, truly, absolutely normal! I have got to tell fath-!"

Abruptly, the girl stopped her gleeful bouncing, her expression going from gleeful to "Oh, _shit_" in less than three seconds. In the blink of an eye, the thin girl had Blaine by the collar of his shirt and slammed him up against a wall, teeth bared in anger.

"WHERE. IS. MY. FATHER."

"I-I don't know! You were the only one there!"

"YOU'RE LYING! TELL ME WHERE HE IS BEFORE I RIP YOU APART AND SPREAD YOUR REMAINS THROUGHOUT THE NINE REALMS!"

"I-I'm not lying! I don't even know who your father is!"

Releasing a snarl, the girl pulled back her fist, but was immediately restrained by the Captain.

"That's enough! Miss, please, just calm down! I'm sure that your father is fine!"

Growling, she pulled her hand back and whirled on him. "No he isn't! He's alone, somewhere in this unfamiliar world, a-and powerless as a Midgardian! For all I know, he could be dead! In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he is dead, with how his last visit to this world turned out!"

"… Midgardian?"

Once again, the "oh shit" look was back. "Uh…"

Steve crossed his arms. "Just who exactly are you, ma'am?"

She stared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I am Hel, ruler of the realm of the dead, daughter of Loki."

**A/N: Whelp, that's done! A few notes:**

**First of all, for Hel's character, I did intensive research, and I found that there were two different versions of her: Hel, who in the earlier legends was a huge bitch, and Holle, a latter version worshipped by barbarian tribes and was portrayed as a kind entity. I decided to combine them for her, and thus I have come to the decision that this version of Hel is slightly bipolar. Seeing as her father is a megalomaniac and a sociopath, I think that her being bipolar and having a hair-trigger temper is somewhat justified. Remember, I spent a looooong time on trying to figure out how to write her, so I'd appreciate it if no one got on my case about it. **

**Second, "Sing" is the TV show that Bryan Collins is the show-runner for on "The New Normal", which is awesome and you should check it out. I am not responsible for any feels that may be had.**

**And thirdly, I pretty much wrote Clint and Nat's scene with the TV based on what my mother and I do when we're watching Glee. It was fun to write. **

**See you soon! Remember to Review~!**


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